Transcript
Tracy Kronczak (0:00)
That was where I witnessed a murder, couldn't do a thing about it because it had unraveled to the point where the mob kings were just openly themselves. And, you know, I was in the northeast part of Moscow in a neighborhood that, you know, was kind of rough and tumble in that era. And I'm walking to the subway with my friend Volodya. There's a guy, old guy in rags, down on his knees in a field just begging. And there's three guys in suits standing up around him. And I just see one guy look over just in time. I was like, oh, this is great. I look over just in time to see a guy pull a knife the size of his, like it's huge, out of his side pocket and just shove it right up into the guy's head.
Jay Frost (0:46)
Welcome to the PM Podcast, brought to you by Ever True Studios, the show that takes you inside the lives of thought leaders, innovators and change makers in fundraising, philanthropy and civil society. I'm your host, Jay Frost. With more than 25 years in nonprofit technology, Tracy Kronczak has worked across the ecosystem from server racks and on premise systems to cloud architecture, enterprise partnerships and AI strategy. They've served in leadership roles at Salesforce.org, microsoft's tech social impact initiative, Bonterra, and multiple non profit tech consultancies, while advising mission driven organizations on data governance, equity and long term sustainability. In this episode, we trace Tracy's journey from the strawberry fields of New Hampshire to witnessing a murder in Moscow, and finally to becoming a recognized voice at the intersection of technology and justice.
Jeff Frost (1:45)
Maybe I'll just start by asking you
Jay Frost (1:47)
about those things you were just addressing.
Jeff Frost (1:50)
You said you led 30 lives. What does that mean?
Tracy Kronczak (1:58)
I, for better or for worse in this life, have seen, I think, some of the best and the worst that our society, our country and our world has to offer. And I'll sort of frame it in that. I had a rural childhood growing up in 1970s, 1980s rural New Hampshire. We had a town of maybe 4,000 people in South Central New Hampshire. We were up there because at the time, my father's business was he worked for a company called Colesman. And what they did was create a guidance systems for missiles. They created compasses and guidance systems for tanks. So they were a government contractor. And dad had been with a company since he left the Navy. He was in the Korean War. And he was the person they came to when they were like, we don't really understand how to put all this together. Can you figure it out and come back to us. And he had a 25 year career there. And he died when I was very young. He died when I was 12 of a massive heart attack. So that gives you some insight into how stressful his career was. So, you know, at that time, we were living a very comfortably middle class life, and the switch kind of flipped overnight. My mom had to go back to school. I had to be a latchkey kid. You know, we went from very comfortably middle class to, oh my gosh, are we paying our mortgage? Because that's what really matters to keep us in the house. And that was a different lifestyle than my peers had at the time because New Hampshire was importing a lot of white collar workers to try and reinvigorate the state's economy. So a lot of my peers were like, oh, I went to this bomber jacket. You know, I bought this bomber jacket at a store. Or, you know, we did this fancy vacation or we have this fancy car. And my mom and my attitude was, if you want it, work for it. So my first job when I was 12 after my father had passed was for two summers in a row, I was out in the fields picking strawberries and vegetables with the migrant workers in New Hampshire and getting 25 cents a pint for every pint of strawberries I picked. And it was me. It was a bunch of migrants and some other kids. And that immediately gave me insight that I've used for the rest of my life. Because you fast forward this to 2026, where we are actively deporting folks to our country who are trying to make a better life for themselves. And I'm like, really? Because I know what it feels like to be sick from pesticides. I know what it feels like to stay out in the fields all and get sunburned. And you're telling me that you want to make the people who are working those jobs even more miserable than they already are by screwing around with their immigration status. It's not cool, it's not fair, and it's inhumane. But I did that for two summers and then I parlayed that into yard work for the rich kids in town. Boy, there are stories, but you jumped
